always the exception
by bonniebonbon
Summary: [He laughed of course–or at least his eyes did–but she wished he'd take her seriously. She really did think he was handsome.]


"What are you doing?"

Remus looked over his shoulder. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Stalking Lily so you can run off tonight and report back to James?"

"Precisely," he sighed.

Dorcas Meadowes stood behind the sandy-haired boy for a bit too long after he turned back to his binoculars. Remus Lupin hadn't smiled, but his eyes had, and to her that was the best kind of smile.

* * *

"How was it?"

"How was what?"

"Operation Stalk Lily."

"It was splendid," he said dryly. "James has now persuaded a bunch of Third-Year Hufflepuffs to join in the fun."

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. "And how, exactly, has he done that?"

"Ten Galleons," Remus said simply as he picked up a grape and plopped it into his mouth.

"_Ten!?_" Dorcas exclaimed.

"Half of it is mine."

Dorcas shook her head. "Why would you waste your money like that?"

He shrugged.

She'd think him stupid if she hadn't already thought that he was the cleverest boy in the world.

* * *

She gasped when she saw him.

'"It's nothing," he said hastily, even though she hadn't said anything.

"What happened?"

"I…tripped."

She noticed the hesitation but decided not to say anything. He clearly didn't want to talk about it.

Besides, despite the cuts and scars and blood and bruises, Dorcas still thought Remus Lupin looked extremely handsome in the moonlight.

* * *

"Where's Remus?"

"I don't know; he's not on the map, though, so he must be in the Room of Requirement."

"Oh, okay, thanks."

Dorcas ran out of the Great Hall and arrived at the Room of Requirement panting. She quickly caught her breath and muttered that she wanted to join the boy she loved.

It would've been a long shot if she hadn't been so sure.

A heavy wooden door appeared and she stepped inside. Sure enough, Remus was sitting on a chair in what seemed like a child's bedroom.

"Rem?"

He looked up, surprised. "Cas? How did you find me?"

She avoided the question. "What are you doing here?" She noticed blood on the back of his chair. "Are you hurt?"

"Don't," Remus said as Dorcas rushed to his chair. His arm was stretched out in front of him so she didn't come any nearer. "I'm–I'm not who you think I am."

"Sorry?" Dorcas wasn't sure what he meant and took a step back. "What exactly do I think you are?"

"I don't know…normal?" He ran his hand through his hair and Dorcas almost laughed. _If only he knew how _not _normal he was. At least to her. _

He stood up suddenly.

"Do you love someone, Dorcas?"

It was like he could read her mind.

"Of course I do." She wanted desperately to say _Apart from you, you mean? _but that was out of the question.

"Well–last night–I hurt someone I loved."

She opened her mouth to ask "Who?" but asked "How?" instead.

"I'm…I'm a werewolf, Cas."

* * *

She couldn't say she wasn't surprised. But it did make sense.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

Silence.

"Do you hate me?"

She wanted to tell him that it actually made her love him even more. She wanted to tell him that she loved him–that she has ever since First Year–now that he's told her his secret.

But instead she said, "Nah." Which surprised her, because Dorcas was never one to keep secrets. She told someone (usually Emmeline) the second she heard one. She wasn't one to lie, either, so it surprised her even more when he asked her again how she found him and she answered that she just asked to go where the handsome werewolf was.

(He laughed of course–or at least his eyes did–but she wished he'd take her seriously. She really did think he was handsome.)

But then again, Remus Lupin was an exception.

He had always been an exception, and tomorrow, she'd tell him.

* * *

_Tomorrow._

_Tomorrow._

_Tomorrow._

She promised herself to tell him, but she kept pushing it back a day.

She wasn't even sure why. It wasn't like he had a girlfriend or anything.

Maybe she just didn't want her heart broken. Maybe she was afraid he'd say that he didn't love her back, even though, at times, it seemed like he did.

Maybe she'd rather live in false hope than in an awful reality.

* * *

The summer of 1981 she was killed. She lived happily and had no regrets, so it wasn't all that tragic.

She only had one.


End file.
